


Twelve Days

by GWritesNovels



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Character Death, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Homelessness, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GWritesNovels/pseuds/GWritesNovels
Summary: "We've both been victims of pain. Everyone in this world has been, at one point or another. All in different ways. But what I want to learn, what I want you to learn, is the thing that not everyone figures out. I want us to learn hope, and what it means to live."In which a homeless girl meets a lonely rocker and decides to teach her the meaning of living within the span of twelve days.





	1. Day One: Heartbreak and Meetings

Blood covered the girl's hands, almost frozen to her skin. She didn't take notice, though. Just like she didn't notice when they cracked open and started bleeding in the first place. The only thing she could concentrate on was the fact that not all of it was her own.

She never noticed when the snow around her started falling harder, covering her ragged, torn clothes and melting against her skin. She didn't notice it sticking to her worn boots, growing heavier and heavier with each step, almost as heavy as her heart. All she could think about was the fact that the older girl's skin felt the exact same way when she last touched it. The warmth that she had clung to every night as she shivered against the freezing floors of abandoned buildings or rested uncomfortably against concrete or park benches, the only warmth she knew, had finally faded away and left nothing but the cold in its wake. She shivered at the thought of the blood leaving her, her tears dripping onto the front of her shirt silently as she pulled her out into the open where someone could find her, for she had no way of burying her.

She didn't deserve to die.

Especially not the way that she did.

The entire fight had been stupid, really. If she hadn't been having a bad day, hadn't been so stubborn, the both of them would probably be walking around, trying to find a place to sleep for the night because her older sister absolutely despised the homeless shelter nearest to them. There were too many fights, too many people terrified out of their minds and too mistrustful of others for anything to be safe.

The entire fight had been stupid, and it had started because of her.

If only she had gritted her teeth and bore the freezing weather a little longer, if only she had come to her senses and realized that they were not the only two people hiding out in the abandoned mall, she would be alive.

Her mind began to replay everything that had happened over and over again, just like a broken record. Bits and pieces, small flashes of memory suddenly hit her, an unstoppable force from which it was impossible for her to escape.

_Yelling, shoving, scuffling sounds coming from the corner. Fists connecting with flesh. The terrible sound of a knife being drawn. Rusty scent, heaving breath. Steel marrying skin. The first splatter of blood against the wall as her body fell---_

She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away. Finally, she began to notice everything around her. Surrounded by trees, everything was silent. However, she noticed something beginning to take shape in the distance. Something large.

_A house_ , she realized as she got a little closer. Of course, it wasn't an uncommon sight. It only unnerved her because of the fact that there was literally nothing else around but a forest on that side. Who would willingly live so far away from everyone else?

Maybe it was a trap. It might've been a safe house for some kind of criminal, someone who'd committed horrible crimes against humanity and was hiding away from everyone else. Or, even worse, it might've been a house where the victims' bodies were hidden.

_Should I risk it?_ she thought as she approached it. _Or should I just turn and run while I still can?_

Nothing could be as bad as what happened earlier, though.

As she kept walking closer and closer, she realized that the small house had an outside air ventilation system, which was blowing out hot air. Also not an uncommon sight, but a highly welcome one. She began moving towards it as quickly as she could, the cold still stopping her. When she tripped and fell, she crawled across the snow and up to the porch.

Maybe no one was home. She could just sit there for a few minutes and take the time to warm up and feel more like a human being again. Then she could go, and the owner would never have to know she was ever there in the first place.

The warm air brushed against her freezing skin, and she welcomed it, crawling even closer. Soon, she was sitting on the steps, thawing her arms and legs and face. She could stay there forever if she had the choice.

Slowly, Waverly Earp smiled a little as the heat traveled through her aching bones and into her freezing soul. She just hoped that it could finally be enough.

~ ~ ~

Nicole Haught sat quietly looking down at her phone but not really seeing it. She tapped her fingers against the chair she was sitting in, but he couldn't hear a thing.

Clootie had come back today.

Of course, he always made a return. Just when everything was going well, something had to go wrong. Just when she could finally feel alright, insecurity had to creep up on her and swallow him whole.

Of course, Clootie would choose to come back on the very first day of Nicole and Mercedes's break from tour, just after the younger redhead had made a promise to himself that she wouldn't disturb Mercedes and Wynonna during their time together unless it was absolutely necessary.

The words blurred together on the screen, and she clutched the phone tightly. She couldn't do it. She couldn't talk to Mercedes and she couldn't talk to Wynonna because she'd just be a nuisance to both of them, she knew she would. They'd deny it, but she knew the truth. She couldn't call any of her family members because she knew they were going to be busy all that week. She definitely couldn't call Shae. Nicole had just established a good friendship with her crush, and she couldn't tell her about all of the screwed-up things that went on in her head this soon.

She was stuck with her own thoughts again, a cold, numbing sensation that she'd slowly grown used to as time passed by.

Slowly, Nicole looked at the phone again, skimming over the notes that she'd written for a new song. What was the point of her even making music? There was already so much in the world, so many songs similar enough to her own that it didn't matter if she wrote or not. Somebody would come out with words close enough to the ones that were bouncing around in her own head, and people would like that more.

_There's no point to this_ , she thought to herself, slowly closing out of the document. _There's absolutely no point at all._ Sighing, Nicole ran a hand through her hair and tossed her phone onto the seat. She hated that she was letting all of the fans down. Maybe it was for the best, though. Maybe she just needed to fail, step into the background. Maybe someone else needed to succeed.

She absolutely hated Clootie. Clootie made her question everything.

Nicole rose to her feet and headed for the hall, knowing that a walk might help her clear her head a little more. She grabbed her beanie and a jacket from the coat rack in the hallway before putting them on. She also slipped on a random pair of shoes, then walked out the door.

The sun was setting and the air was freezing, a lot colder than she'd expected. Snow covered the ground, which was a surprise to her. She began to shiver immediately and contemplated going back into the house. Right as she turned to the door, something that lurked in the corner of her eye caught her attention.

She wasn't alone.

Quickly, she whirled back around to get a good look at the person. The dim lighting made it difficult to see, but when she squinted, he was pretty sure that the individual in question was a young woman. Nice began walking closer, hoping that she wasn't armed with any sort of weapon. As she approached her, she realized that the other girl was hunched over the air duct, trying to warm up. Her dark brown hair was caked in mud and something else, and her clothes hung off of her body, definitely not her size. Her plaid shirt was worn and ripped in places, her jeans seemingly in the same condition.

When Nicole took the next step, she saw the brunette visibly tense. "Please don't hurt me," came a small, soft voice. "I promise I was just leaving. I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," the redhead said calmly, taking another tentative step and raising her hands in a surrender motion. "Are you alright?" Right as she asked the question, she saw the girl's blood-slathered palms and got her answer.

"Yeah, I just saw that heat was coming from here and wanted to warm up a little," she replied. Her voice sounded shaky, Nicole noticed, almost as if she'd been crying. "I'll go now."

"No, no, you're fine," the tall girl said quickly, taking one last step and sitting down next to her. She flinched away slightly, so Nicole scooted away from her as much as she could to give her some space. She caught a small glimpse of her face, which also had smears of blood and mud. 

What happened? Had she been in an accident? Was there someone that she needed to call? Did someone do this to her?

All of the questions circled around Nicole's head, but she couldn't make his mouth work right. Instead, she looked at the girl. She couldn't have been older than eighteen. Her brown, terrified eyes held such a mixture of innocence and experience that it worried her. Every time her eyes flickered down and got a glimpse of the blood, it looked like she wanted to burst into tears.

A few more moments of silence passed, and the redhead finally found that she could speak again. "Would you like to come inside? It's a lot warmer." The girl looked at her warily, scanned over her features, and Nicole realized that she was probably attempting to judge whether or not she was planning on doing something terrible. Finally, she nodded slowly before standing up. She was quite short, almost half a foot shorter than the redhead's height. Nicole stood as well, walking in front of her and opening the door. The warm air was welcome, and she sighed happily as it washed over her. She turned, and she thought he saw a flicker of slight relief appear on the girl's features as she stepped into the warmth as well.

"What's your name?" the taller girl asked as they walked into the living room together. She sat on the chair again, and the brunette chose the furthest couch seat from her.

"Waverly," she answered quietly, looking down at the floor.

"Nice to meet you, Waverly. I'm Nicole," she said, and the other girl nodded slightly. "Are you really alright? Did something happen? Do you need to call someone?" All of the questions spilled out at once, and she immediately shut up. The last thing she needed to do was scare her.

"Not really," she admitted, still not looking up at Nicole. "Something did happen, but there's nobody I can call." Devastation made its way into her tone, and the redhead wondered what went on. She didn't want to push her too far, though.

"Is it anything that you want to talk about?"

Waverly shook her head. "I don't know if I can right now. It's still---I'm still working on wrapping my head around it."

Nice nodded in understanding, and they fell quiet for a moment. She looked over all the blood on Waverly's hands and face, realizing that the girl probably felt miserable with the substances coating her skin. "Would you like to get cleaned up?" She hoped it didn't sound rude.

"Only if you don't mind," the smaller girl said quietly, sounding nervous and self-conscious.

"Of course I don't," Nicole replied with a small smile. She stood once more and led the way to the bathroom, stopping on the way to retrieve some clothes for her to wear. "Sorry," she apologized sheepishly, "I don't have anything that'll fit right."

"This is good, thank you." Waverly took the clothes from her with a small nod of gratitude and began heading for the bathroom.

"Towels are on the rack," Nicole called out right as the door closed. She stayed in place until he heard running water, then she began walking away.

She went back into her bedroom and sat lightly on the bed, still wondering where the other girl had come from, what had happened to her.

There had to be something that she could do to help.

Clootie made another appearance, asking one single question that would haunt Nicole for days to come.

_How are you supposed to help her when you can't even help yourself?_

~ ~ ~

Waverly allowed the searing hot water to beat against her freezing skin, burning and stinging. The water ran down to the drain in red rivulets, and she closed her eyes. She allowed herself to feel the burn, soothing the craving of pain.

She wished she could burn the memories away just as easily.

Waverly shook her head, forcing her thoughts to turn to Nicole. She seemed kind enough, and she hoped that there were no sinister intentions here. She seemed like he really cared.

She seemed like he could've been good friends with Wynonna.

She scrubbed harder at her face and hands, trying to wash all of those thoughts away. Her brain wouldn't listen, though. Instead, questions began to fill her mind. _Has anyone found her yet? Is she still lying on the snow outside of the abandoned mall, all of the blood draining out of her? Is she in the morgue now, a nineteen-year-old Jane Doe with no one coming for her?_

Waverly finally ran her hands through her hair, washing out the matted mud and blood that she had acquired today. It felt good to have water splashing over all of the substances, finally removing them from her body.

She located Nicole's shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. She knew that she should probably ask before using it, but it was too late now. Hopefully, the other girl wouldn't mind.

Finally, she stepped out of the warmth and cut the water off, drying herself before getting dressed. Nicole had been right; the black t-shirt and gym shorts absolutely devoured her frame.

At least she was cleansed of the day.

After a few more moments of looking into the mirror, she shook her head and walked out of the bathroom. There was no place inside of it to dump the wet towels and her ruined clothes, so she awkwardly stood outside of Nicole's bedroom door to ask her where she should put them. Her door was shut, so she wondered if she should just leave her alone.

All of a sudden, she heard the soft sound of a piano and something that resembled a muffled sob, which made her feel even worse. Was she alright? Did she need to check on her, or would she throw her out for seeing her in such an emotional state? 

Waverly contemplated this for another moment, and then she heard Nicole say quietly, "There's no point in any of this, is there? Making music, doing something with my life. It's all just a waste."

Upon hearing this, she bit her lip and contemplated what she should do. Nicole was obviously upset, but she had no idea how to comfort her. She couldn't just ignore it, brush it aside, but she also didn't want to just burst in and demand to know what was wrong. She allowed a few more moments to pass, just enough time for the redhead to slam her hand down on the keys randomly, which made her jump at the noise. Then she knocked on the door softly. "Come in," Nicole called, and if she hadn't heard her a few moments ago, she would've never known that anything was wrong.

She turned the knob and entered the dark room. The only light was coming from the moon shining through the window. Nicole was sitting near it, small keyboard in front of her. There were small tear streaks running down her face, which made her heart ache. "I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but where do I need to put these?" she asked, holding up the dirty towels and clothes.

"It's alright, you're fine," she said, standing and approaching her. "Here, I'll take them."

"Thank you," she said with a small smile. Nicole smiled back, though she could tell that it took effort.

"The guest bedroom is down the hallway, if you'd like to stay," the taller girl said kindly, making a small gesture towards the direction of the room.

"Thank you again," she said. "It really means a lot to me." With that, she left her alone and headed into the guest room, wondering what to do.

The room was very pretty, with light gray walls and a bed with matching gray sheets. There was a television and a desk with an open notebook that looked like it hadn't been touched save for placing a pen inside. The rest of the room was barren.

Staring at the pen and paper, she had an idea, and she hoped that Nicole wouldn't mind.

Wynonna had always told her that she was good at comforting people with her words. Though they didn't seem that important or helpful to her, what could it hurt to try to help Nicole out?

Slowly, she walked over to the desk. If she only had one chance to tell Nicole something, what would it be? After a moment, she had it. Waverly picked up the pen and began to write.

_We've both been victims of pain. Everyone in this world has been, at one point or another. All in different ways. But what I want to learn, what I want you to learn, is the thing that not everyone figures out. I want us to learn hope, and what it means to live._

She put the pen down and read over her words, smiling a little. Hopefully this would help. In the back of her mind, she scoffed. How could she possibly help anyone? But she shoved the thought away and carefully tore the paper out of the journal. 

Then she crept across the hallway and slipped the note under Nicole's door.


	2. Day Two:  Offers and Contemplations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Waverly and Nicole bond quietly.

Waverly awoke, her heart pounding in her chest. Everything was pitch black, and her eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness. Where was she? It was somewhere soft and comfortable, an unfamiliar feeling. She placed her hands below her and pressed down. A bed. She was actually lying in bed.

How did she get here?

After a few more moments of confusion, the fog in her head lifted and she remembered everything. Wynonna bleeding out on the floor. Carrying her body out, watching her life seep into the snow. Her extensive walk into the forest. Nicole's kindness.

The backs of her eyes stung a little as she thought of everything, but then she shook her head. She couldn't do this, not here. Not now.

Slowly, Waverly sat up in bed and looked around for a clock. There wasn't one that she could see, and she wondered if there was one somewhere else. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose to her feet, stepping carefully.

Heading towards the door, she opened it and noticed that there was a light on in the house. Groggily, she followed it until she found herself standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Nicole peering into the refrigerator. The light hurt her eyes a little, but she stepped inside anyway. "Good morning," she murmured softly, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," the redhead responded, her voice just as thick. Slowly, she turned around and shut the fridge door, holding a can of Coke. "How'd you sleep?"

"I slept well," she said casually, though she wanted to add much more. It had been the best sleep she'd had in the last three years, mainly because she was warm the whole time and didn't have to worry about being attacked by anyone in the middle of the night. Waverly couldn't tell the taller girl any of this, though. Not without her being suspicious. Instead, she asked, "How about you?"

"It was good," Nicole replied, though the dark circles under her eyes claimed otherwise. The brunette didn't want to say anything, though. Silence fell for a moment, and then the taller girl spoke again. "Thank you for the note last night. That really meant a lot to me, though I'm sorry you had to hear it."

"You're welcome, and it's okay." That's all Waverly knew to say. She wished that there was more, but nothing would come out. After another moment, she said, "I'll leave whenever you want me to."

"I'm not going to kick you out, Waverly," Nicole said with reassurance. "You can stay as long as you need."

"How do you know I need it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows a little. The redhead shrugged.

"Just a gut feeling. Am I right?"

She couldn't answer honestly and keep eye contact with the other girl at the same time. Slowly, she directed her gaze down at the ground and nodded. There was no way that she wanted to see Nicole's expression right now. Would she be agitated that she had actually taken her up on her offer? Would she be upset because it was only supposed to be kind, and she was just supposed to decline it politely and be on her way?

Waverly looked up anyway, and she was greeted by the redhead's tiny smile. "So you'll stay? At least for another day?" she asked hopefully. The brunette took her in, that hopeful smile and the slightly stuck-up bedhead, the eyes that appeared to have a little more light than when she saw her last night. Then she nodded.

"I'll stay if it's okay," the smaller girl confirmed, and Nicole's smile grew. "You're sure I'm not threatening any of your plans?"

"I'm sure," the other girl said sweetly with a small nod. "I wasn't going to do anything anyway. I'm supposed to be writing more, but I don't know if I'm really feeling it right now." Her smile slipped for a moment as she looked down at the floor, but then her gaze met Waverly's again. The grin returned slightly, but it wasn't as genuine as before. She wondered if she was thinking about last night again. Before she could say anything, Nicole looked over at the window.

"What is it?" she asked as the taller girl began walking forward, leaning over the kitchen sink to look through the glass.

"The darkness is dead, at least for now," Nicole murmured quietly, not shifting her gaze away from the slowly-appearing colors for a moment. Waverly walked over next to her, looking out at the deep orange spreading across the sky. "We've got another chance, and I'm gonna try to not fuck up this time."

Waverly nodded slightly, looking over at her. "Me too. Maybe this time, we'll get it right." She watched as Nicole stared, took in slow, deep breaths, and appreciated the other girl's look of wonder as their new start began.

~ ~ ~

Nicole watched as Waverly wandered around the house, still clad in her clothes, and appeared to be observing both everything and nothing at the same time. Every single time Waverly looked up at her, the brunette gave her a quick smile, and she could tell that the smaller girl was dying to tell her something. Instead, she would drop her gaze to the ground for a moment before she went back to looking around. When Waverly was done exploring the whole house, she began pacing around, looking more nervous than ever.

Nicole wanted to reach out for her, invite Waverly to tell her anything she needed to, but she just watched her curiously instead. 

Meanwhile, Clootie was whispering in the back of her mind. _She will slip away, fade quietly. You're not going to have her for long. You'll be lucky if she lasts till the end of the day. You deserve to be all alone, anyway. I'm the only one you'll ever have. You'll always care what I think._

"No," Nicole whispered lowly, a knot building up in her throat.

_There's no point in trying to form new relationships. Everyone will leave you. Who could ever care for you? I'm the only one that will be with you till the end._

She took in a shaky breath and attempted to move. Going somewhere, anywhere might help drown out Clootie, at least momentarily. But she found that she was absolutely petrified. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe anymore as the realization slapped her in the face again.

_This is pointless. This is all pointless._

_My entire fucking life means nothing._

She stared down at the ground again, tears building in her eyes as she thought of all the words she'd ever written and realized that they may never mean anything to her again. If she couldn't pull through this, how could she be expected to help anyone?

_How are you supposed to help her, or anyone, if you can't help yourself?_

The question from the previous night rose, and Nicole felt sick to her stomach. Clootie was right. She thought of the lyrics to every song she'd ever written and scoffed. She'd thought that music, helping people with what they were going through, was her purpose, but even that had fallen through.

She wasn't helping anyone.

All of a sudden, she felt a soft hand gently come to rest on her shoulder. Nicole slowly turned around to find Waverly standing there, concern filling her whole expression. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "You've been standing there for a few minutes, and you look really sad."

"I'm okay." The lie slipped off of her tongue with ease. It hurt her to lie, it always did, but it was also easier. She didn't want anyone to be concerned for his well-being, because as far as she understood, it didn't matter. The only person she couldn't lie to was Mercedes, and that was because her best friend could see through all of her bullshit.

"Alright," said Waverly, though she didn't sound thoroughly convinced. She must've realized that she still had her hand on Nicole's shoulder because she removed it quickly and mumbled an apology as her cheeks turned slightly red.

The sight made the redhead's heart warm a little.

"Really, though," the smaller girl said after a moment of silence, "if you want to talk, I'd be more than happy to listen. I'm sure that a close friend or relative would be just as ready, if you'd prefer that."

"Thank you," Nicole murmured, attempting a small smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

The brunette gave her a small smile in return, though it held a little sadness in it. Then she turned around and gave her attention to the taller girl's electric guitar once more. Her eyes glossed over the paper that was setting underneath it, all of the notes that she had written out. It was another song that she had thought was so good, but now just realized that it was just a waste of time. "Do you write music to play on this?"

"Yeah," she replied as Waverly curiously plucked a string. "I do for my piano, too. My music isn't all that great, but it gives me an---it gives me something to do sometimes." An escape, she'd wanted to say. It was true. But after everything circling in her head, she wasn't sure that she'd ever be able to truly run away from all of the dark thoughts.

The brunette nodded, accepting this answer, and then she kept walking. Next, she discovered the redhead's movie collection. She watched with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked over each and every one, seeming to look for anything familiar. Her eyes never sparked with recognition.

"Anything you're interested in seeing?" Nicole asked, taking another step towards her. She looked down at the collection once more before hesitantly reaching down and picking up one of the cases gingerly. _Donnie Darko_. The tall girl couldn't help but grin just a little. No matter how dark the film might've been, it was still her favorite.

"This one looks intriguing," Waverly said quietly. "Is it okay if we watch it? Unless you wanted to do something else."

"No, this is good. I'm always up for watching this. It's one of my favorites." Okay, maybe always was a bit of a stretch. Even though the thought of the film made her smile, the thought of watching it again when there was no point in doing it made her want to rip her hair out in frustration.

She couldn't tell the other girl this, though.

Instead, she turned on the DVD player, popped the disc in, and dimmed the lights.

~ ~ ~

Waverly's concentration couldn't stop wavering.

It wasn't because of disinterest in the film; she held a lot of interest in what was going on in Donnie's head. She just held a lot of interest in what was going on in Nicole's as well.

As the film progressed, she caught the redhead writing more and more, pressing the pencil into the paper so hard that she thought it would tear through. What words were filling ger head? What words could she be thinking that were powerful enough to destroy upon creation?

Waverly knew a few of those words herself.

They attempted to resurface, but she shut them down in an instant. Instead, she turned her attention back to the film, still listening to the other girl's pencil scratching the paper wildly.

_Do the police know about you yet?_

The thought popped out of nowhere, and it absolutely terrified her. Had they found out yet? Of course, they knew about Wynonna. He had been a key eyewitness to several cases in the last year, and he had helped them out a lot. But they had never known about her. Her sister said that they needed to keep it that way. If it was known that she was underage, if it was known that the elder Earp couldn't take proper care of her, they would send her away. They'd send her all the way to---

"No," Waverly mumbled, shaking her head. "No." She couldn't even allow herself to think about where she'd end up.

Nicole looked up from her paper, her eyebrows knitted together and her eyes filled with slight concern. "Are you alright, Waverly?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I just---I was just getting really into the movie, that's all." The redhead nodded and looked back down at her writing once more. Part of her yearned to see what it was, what could be going on inside of Nicole's head, but she knew that she'd most likely never let her know. As she kept a tight grip on the pencil and also began to wince, the brunette wondered if it would be better to get her outside and away from her work for a little while.

The hateful glare that the redhead shot down at the notebook convinced Waverly of this completely. "Is there anything else you would like to do today?"

"That's okay," Nicole said with a shake of her head, her eyes meeting Waverly's sadly. "I don't really know what else to do." The smaller girl nodded, knowing that she'd have to get her out at some point. It couldn't be good for the tall girl to stay inside all the time and dwell on what was making her feel this way. Thinking about it and getting it out could be good sometimes, but excessive amounts of time when the thinking became disastrous couldn't be healthy.

Waverly finally got her concentration back at the very end of the film, when she finally allowed the tears to fall. She thought of all that had happened, and what it meant for the characters in the end. She thought of her current situation. What if she could do that? Would it have been better off if she chose to fight her attackers instead of hiding? Would it have been better if she was the one who had gotten killed last night?

Where would her older sister be right now?

Nicole popped in another film, but Waverly had no idea what was going on in it at all. The only thing that registered was that Brad Pitt was beating the shit out of people.

In her head, she was imagining the feeling of warm blood flowing down her chest, pain shooting through her, her brain growing foggy, black spots clouding her vision, ringing in her ears, leaving her body.

The thought persisted, no matter how many films she and Nicole sat through, no matter how many times the redhead shifted until she was sitting only a few feet from her now, no matter the food she wound up offering her when she'd realized how long they'd been there, no matter the fact that she finally put her notebook down and actually paid attention to the stories unfolding in front of her.

All Waverly could think about was Donnie smiling as the end came crashing down on him.

Would it be the same if it were her?

If she could change things, would she be dead now, a blood-slathered smile eternally frozen on her lips? Would Nicole have ever known about her, maybe see her body on the local news and feel something for a split second before the segment changed?

Would she still be in the state that she was in yesterday, and would someone still try to help her out?

Would things be better or worse if she entered and left the tall girl's life so fast that she never knew she was even there?

The thoughts echoed through Waverly's mind as Nicole watched film after film after film. She began to wonder if it was because the redhead truly enjoyed them or if they were serving as a distraction from the thoughts bouncing around in her head.

Either way, she didn't mind one bit.

Finally, Nicole shut off the television and looked over at Waverly. They were only four feet apart now, she noticed. It didn't give her that feeling of horror or dread like she thought it would. Instead, she drew just a little closer. Before the silence could be broken, the brunette picked the notebook off of the floor gingerly and began leafing through it. "I'm not reading anything, I promise," she said when Nicole began to reach for it protectively. "I'm just looking for a blank sheet."

"I'll find one for you," she said quietly. "The writing goes on for quite a while." She placed his hands on the book carefully. "May I?" Waverly nodded and let go of the book. Nicole pulled it into her lap and flipped through pages, allowing her eyes to skim over every one. After a few moments, she handed the notebook back to her. "There you go."

"Thank you." Waverly stared down at the paper, rapidly tapping her pen against the pages. What was she going to say to the other girl tonight?

That was another thing that irked her about her words. They failed her. Always.

Finally, she decided to just put the pen to the paper and simply write. She hoped that whatever came out would be enough.

_Day Two:_

_Entertainment can be key._

_People seem to either love or hate entertainment. They'll binge-watch shows on Netflix or they'll barely see a movie at all because they get too bored. Some people obsess over books, while others refuse to read a page. Some will crank up their music as loud as possible, while the others will simply sit in silence._

_Some may think that entertainment is pointless, or they may get nervous because they're afraid that they're wasting too much time. I know that I used to be all the time when I was a kid. As long as it's not all that you're doing, you should be okay._

_I saw it in your eyes as you watched so many films today. You were in a complete trance, and I couldn't help but feel a little better. It was obvious that you had been able to forget about your worries for a few hours and focus on something a little better. Your mind was someplace else for a little while, and it made me so glad to see that, even for a few hours, you were happy._

_Please remember that it's okay to focus on little things, like stories you enjoy or music that you can't get out of your head. Allow it to shove back whatever stress you may be feeling. It may not be much sometimes, but it can be enough._

Waverly put her pen down and held the notebook back out to Nicole. She took it with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. As she read the words, she nodded along, almost as if she was agreeing with what Waverly wrote. It was actually kind of cute.

"Thank you, Waves," she said finally, meeting her eyes again. "That was really nice of you. You don't have to turn this into a daily thing, if you don't want to."

"I do, though," she replied. "I really like it."

"Alright," said the redhead, and this time, the smile reached her eyes. "I think I'm going to head to bed now. It's been quite the long day, and my eyes are tired."

"I bet," Waverly replied, returning his smile. "Goodnight, Nicole."

"Goodnight, Waverly." She began heading for his room, but then stopped halfway. She turned in the dark room to face her once more. "How many letters will there be?" she asked, and Josie looked at her with confusion.

Then she realized what the girl was really asking.

"As many as you want," she said. "As long as you don't get tired of them, I'll write for you." Nicole nodded once more, and then she finished the journey to her bedroom. Waverly watched her retreating back, biting her lip. She hoped that she hadn't told a lie.

She was definitely willing to write as long as she wanted.

She was just worried that she might run out of ink.


End file.
